


Whiskey At A Hotel Bar

by thelookyouredoingthelookagain



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Hook-Up, Hotel, M/M, Something New
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 01:06:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5987041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelookyouredoingthelookagain/pseuds/thelookyouredoingthelookagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Take one posh hotel, add a fine whiskey and a sexy stranger, and John Watson has a recipe for a very satisfying night.<br/><i>A special Valentine's Day treat to thank you for all the feedback!</i><br/>Lots of love,<br/>SH and JW</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bar

**Author's Note:**

> All works here were produced by two friends in the fandom. One writes as SH and one as John, and we edit together. Our characters are based on the BBC's _Sherlock_ , though we don't mind playing a little loosely with canon and the occasional AU. We have whims and like to follow them. While we like to torture our boys with constant misunderstandings, we know they belong together and we always see to that.
> 
> All posted works are complete, and we hope there will be something for everyone. We've got a back catalogue of 100 stories, so feel free to get lost within them. In 2016, we'll be slowing the pace a little, but we hope we've got enough to keep you entertained in between postings. **Our plan is to post once a month, so please subscribe.**
> 
> We also really appreciate the kudos and comments. They mean a lot -- sometimes they inspire new ideas and works, sometimes they just make us feel all warm inside. If you've got requests, you can leave them in the comments or at JW's tumblr page, which can be found [here](http://ivefangirledandicantgetup.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Thanks for reading and liking and being a great community!

Sherlock had been working all day -- successfully, of course -- and his latest case was almost wrapped up. He knew precisely what he needed right now. He had the taxi driver take him to a hotel bar where he'd once met a client. It was a gorgeous old building. The rooms were likely to be luxurious -- he hadn't actually seen one and that's not why he was headed there tonight. The hotel bar had a ridiculously expensive whiskey whose taste was worth every penny. He was going to get himself one and savour the fuck out of it. 

The car pulled up and Sherlock went inside. The bar was basically empty -- most of the hotel guests were probably businessmen who on a Tuesday night were either already tucked in to get a good night's rest before tomorrow's meetings or were shagging away with the escorts they hired since they finally had a night away from their wives. Regardless, the bar was quiet and dimly lit, and this made Sherlock happy. He went up to the bartender and ordered the whiskey. When it came, he sat there quietly, enjoying every sip.

John straightened his tie in the mirror, looking around the beautiful room. He had considered just going to bed, but that was boring. He was a grown man with a free night, and this building was so gorgeous that he knew the crowd in the bar would be even more so. He was going to head down and find himself some fun. 

He double checked that he had his key before heading out, buttoning his suit jacket as he walked down the hall. The lobby was a bit busy, but the bar was quite quiet. He paused in the door and took a good look around the room before going in. He unbuttoned his coat and sat on a stool, three away from the only other man there. John ordered a neat whiskey and looked around the room again. 

Sherlock glanced over at the man who had just come in. Very handsome with excellent drinking taste. He didn't look like a businessman, though -- a detail Sherlock found quite appealing. He ordered another drink. "I'll get his next one as well," he told the bartender.

John looked over at the man who had spoken. He was very handsome -- dark hair and light skin, bright eyes that stared back for a moment before looking away again. "That's kind of you," John said. He got up and moved a couple seats over so now there was only one seat between them. 

Sherlock nodded at the voice but continued to look forward even as the man moved closer. The man's decision to move down, let alone to the seat closer to him, intrigued Sherlock. He stayed still for a moment and then slipped over into the empty seat between them.

The corner of John's mouth twitched upwards. He glanced with his eyes but didn't move his head. He sipped his drink, finishing it and setting the glass down on the bar.

The bartender came down and topped up the two glasses. Sherlock finally broke the silence. "You don't live round here then?" he asked.

John shook his head. "I'm in town for a conference," he said. "You?"

"I work all over," Sherlock said. "But I'm based in London."

"What kind of work do you do?" John asked, turning to look at him properly. 

Sherlock glanced over. That information didn't seem relevant to this conversation. "A bit of this and that," he said. "What do you do?"

John smiled softly. "I'm a doctor," he said. 

"Of course you are," Sherlock said. He stared forward again and took another drink. "And what is a doctor doing all alone at a hotel bar tonight?"

John took a sip of his drink. "Trying not to be all alone in my hotel bed tonight."

Sherlock felt like smiling at the rather bold move. But he didn't. He kept his face neutral. "How's the plan going?" he asked.

"You bought me a drink without having spoken one word to me." John looked over at him again and smiled smugly. 

Now Sherlock let a small smile reveal itself. "Sounds like it's going quite well then," he stated.

John faced forward again and took another drink. "And what are you doing here? Same goal?"

"No, I've not got a room here," Sherlock said. "I was after the whiskey," he added, shaking his glass a little.

"Hmm. I have a lovely room upstairs," John said. "In case you find that information useful."

"I've always wondered what the rooms look like here . . ." Sherlock said, taking another sip. The alcohol and the conversation were warming, relaxing and arousing all at the same time.

"I could show you," John said, finishing his second drink and looking at the man again. 

Sherlock drained his glass and turned to the stranger. "All right then," he said. God, he thought, this man was incredibly handsome.

John stood and led the way to the lift without saying anything else.


	2. The Room

Sherlock followed silently, glancing around as they walked. He walked inside the lift with the man and when the door shut, he stepped in front, facing him, crowding him against the corner of the lift. "What's your name?" he asked.

"John," he said, leaning up and kissing his mouth hungrily. 

Sherlock pushed his body hard against the man, letting his tongue slip to find John's as his hands moved to the back of his head.

John moaned softly, gripping the man's hips to pull him closer. "What's your name?" he asked breathlessly, kissing along his jaw and neck. 

"Tom," Sherlock huffed out. "What floor is your room on?" he asked as he slid his hand down John's body to rest on his belt buckle.

"Twelve," John said. He couldn't remember if he'd pushed the button or not. 

Sherlock let his hand trail down John's zip and then turned his head to see that they were almost there. When the doors opened, he said, "Lead the way."

John moved and led them down the hall, already getting the key out. He unlocked the door and stepped into the room. 

Sherlock looked around the room -- it was incredibly fancy. He glanced over towards the window and could see the lights of the city below. There was a small bag sitting on the sofa in the corner, and the bed looked comfortable with all its white linens. "It's quite bright in here," Sherlock said. 

"Yes," John nodded. "Do you mind? I think I'm going to like looking at you," he smiled. 

"All right," Sherlock said. He moved towards John, stroking the material on his arm. "Very nice suit," he said softly. "Very smart."

John stood still as he gazed up at him. "You're very handsome . . . I'm glad I met you here tonight." 

"Yes," Sherlock said. "I suppose it was serendipity." He let his hands drift to John's chest and then to his tie, which he loosened and slid off. He leaned in and kissed John's mouth.

When John pulled back for breath he pressed his forehead against the man's. "Feel free to unwrap me like a gift," he grinned, kissing him hard again. 

Sherlock smirked a little as he slipped his hands up underneath the back of John's jacket, dragging his fingertips down his back. His mouth moved to John's ear and he nipped at the lobe. "You taste clean," he mumbled.

"Thank goodness," John said, arching against him. "You taste amazing . . . I can't wait to try more of you."

Sherlock stepped back and began to slowly unbutton his shirt, letting John watch him. He let it fall to the floor and then stepped closer again, grasping John's hand against his bare chest.

"I like exploring a different way," John said. John leaned close and nuzzled against his skin, kissing and licking softly from his stomach up along his chest. 

Sherlock exhaled slowly. John's mouth felt good on his skin, and he could feel himself getting hard. He lifted his hands to John's shoulders. "Feels good," he mumbled.

"Yeah?" John asked, sucking hard on a nipple. 

Sherlock pressed a bit on the back of John's head. "Yeah, don't stop," Sherlock said softly. He reached down and grabbed one of John's hands, using it to start rubbing himself through his trousers. "But do this as well."

John bit softly, sucking harder on the nipple as he rubbed the man's cock hard. He fiddled with the zip and pushed his hand inside, rubbing through his pants. 

"Fuck," Sherlock exhaled, dropping his head back for a second as he lifted a hand to rub his face. "Come on, we need to get you out of that suit." 

John pulled off with a last lick and stepped back, peeling off his jacket and then slowly unbuttoning his shirt. 

"You're built, for a doctor, I mean," Sherlock said, helping him off with the shirt. "Are you sure you've been telling me the truth?"

"Maybe I have extracurriculars," John smiled. He unzipped his trousers and slowly let them fall. He rubbed his own cock through his pants, watching the man's face.

Sherlock moved closer, kissing John's mouth and then slowly moving down to his knees. He dragged his tongue over John's hand, then shifted it, pulling down John's pants and gripping his cock before sucking it into his mouth.

"Oh God, yes," John moaned, lacing his fingers into the dark curls. 

Sherlock held John's cock at the base as he began taking John in and out of his mouth, covering him with his tongue and cheeks. His other hand moved between his own legs, pressing himself through his trousers.

"God . . .that's so good," John moaned loudly. He pulled the man's hair a bit, panting softly. 

Sherlock reached his hand around John's body now, holding him and beginning to rock John's body, letting him fuck his mouth. John moved his hips with the encouragement, biting his lip hard. 

Sherlock wanted to take him just to the edge, but he certainly wasn't ready for this to be over yet. When he could see that John was too close, he pulled back, quickly standing and stripping himself of his trousers. He grabbed John and pushed him down on the bed, crawling over top of him and kissing his mouth hard. "What do you want now, Doctor John?" he growled softly.

"To taste you . . . I want your cock in my mouth," John said, wrapping his arms around him and flipping them over. He kissed his mouth hard, nipping at his bottom lip. 

"Please," Sherlock whined desperately, reaching down to hold both of their cocks together.

"Such an inpatient boy," he grinned. "We're in no rush . . ." He started kissing his way down the man's lean body. 

Sherlock lifted his hand to John's shoulders as he moved down, trying not to explode from the anticipation. "This bedding's soft," he said randomly. 

"Good thing we're not," he grinned, biting at the taut flesh of the man's belly. 

Sherlock's back arched instinctively and he moved his hand to grip some of John's hair. "Please," he said again, this time more quietly.

John licked all the way down before taking him into his mouth, swallowing him deep. 

"Fuck," Sherlock called loudly. He lifted his hips off the bed, his hands scrambling to touch something -- one pulling John's hair and the other gripping the bed. He lifted his head to look down at John and then moaned again. He separated his legs a little, which only increased the rocking of his hips. Both hands now were on John's head, moving with his movements. John hollowed his cheeks and moaned around his cock before pressing his tongue against the gland, sucking hard. 

Sherlock's head pressed against the softness of the bed. His eyes squeezed shut as his whole body filled with tension. "Please . . . I'm close," he moaned softly.

John slowly pulled off. "How do you want to come?" he murmured, covering his hips with kisses.

"With you inside me," Sherlock said, reaching down to touch John's face.

John nodded, crawling up to get the lube from the drawer. "Turn around for me," he said as he popped open the top. Sherlock rolled over but stayed partly on his side so he could stroke himself while he waited. John poured lube on his fingers before pushing the man onto his stomach and pulling up his hips. "God you're gorgeous," he mumbled, before dribbling lube over him and pushing a finger inside.

"God," Sherlock moaned, instinctively pushing back against John's intrusion. He let his own hand stroke his cock steadily as he wiped the sweat from his face onto the bed.

John pumped his finger as he kissed the man's lower back. He added a second finger, stretching him open gently while touching his prostate.

"Fuck," Sherlock shouted. It was all too good. "Hurry . . ."

"You can't rush a good thing," John smiled, even as he pushed in a third finger and really opened him up. 

"It's too good," Sherlock huffed out. "I need it."

John pulled his fingers out and nodded. "I don't have condoms," he said. 

"I don't care about condoms," Sherlock panted. "I just . . . need to get fucked by you."

John pushed hard into his body, lying low over him as he pumped his hips steadily. 

Sherlock pushed back as John's body pushed into him. He let a low moan escape from his throat, dropping his head against the mattress. He tried to keep his legs a bit separated to maintain his position although the pleasure in his body also tempted him into just melting onto the bed. 

"You feel so good," John moaned, moving faster and panting softly. 

"You feel good…" Sherlock panted. He reached his hand down to hold his own cock -- starting a fast stroke to in John's rhythm. "Please…" he moaned again.

John snapped his hips faster and harder, moaning loudly. 

"I can't take much more . . ." Sherlock mumbled. His whole body was close to exploding. "Come -- come into me," he called.

John pushed deep into him and came, stretching his body as if to get even deeper. 

Sherlock could tell from the noises and the last thrust that John had come. He squeezed shut his eyes, stroking hard and fast until he came, spilling all over the white of the bedspread. John moaned as he watched the man's body jerk under his own. 

Sherlock shifted his body and let himself collapse onto the bed. "Fuck, that was good," he exhaled, stretching a little before moving to lie properly with his head near the pillow. "Just what I needed," he added, smiling over at John.

John lay on his back, sighing happily. "Yeah, it was amazing."

Sherlock looked over at John. "An excellent twist of fate, I suppose," he said. "So, um . . . the money?" he added a little awkwardly.

John nodded. "Can't a guy catch his breath?" he asked, pushing himself out of bed. He walked naked to his trousers, took out the money, and gave it to the man.

Sherlock reached for his trousers and pushed the money inside the pocket. "How long will you be in town?" he asked. "Perhaps I will fancy a nice whiskey tomorrow night as well…"

John smiled. "I'll be here," he said. 

Sherlock slid his legs into his trousers. "Actually, I think I might take off," he said, standing up to finish getting dressed. "Thanks for letting me see the room, though," he said, looking around for his shoes. "I have always been curious."

"Yeah, no problem," John said, walking the man to the door. 

Sherlock leaned in and gave John a hard kiss. "Good to meet you," he said. "See you, I guess." He headed out the door and down the lift.

John watched him go for a moment before closing the door and going to the bathroom to get ready for bed. That had been a perfect ending to the night.


	3. The Rest Of The Night

Sherlock stepped out into the cold evening, pulling his coat tight around him. He walked down a few streets and into a little coffee shop. "Can I get two coffees and one of those cherry pastries?" he asked, pointing under the glass.

The woman put the food in a small bag and the coffees into a little cardboard carrier. "Anything else?"

He looked round. "I'll take one of those flower things on the tables," he said.

"The vases?" she asked in an annoyed voice. "Those aren't for sale -- they're just for display."

Sherlock pulled out the wad of money the man given him. He flipped a twenty onto the counter. "Are you sure?" he asked.

The woman put the twenty into her apron pocket. "You can't take the vase, I'll get in trouble -- just take the flowers," she said. He paid for the coffee and food and, after grabbing the flowers, walked out. He went back to the hotel, up to the twelfth floor and knocked on the door.

John looked at the door as he was about to get into bed. He padded his way over and smiled. "Back again?"

"Very funny," Sherlock laughed. "Here -- you bought us coffee and flowers." He handed over everything to John and stepped into the room, slipping out of his coat. "So . . . what did you think? Was it everything you'd imagined it'd be?" He kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the bed, moving over slightly so he wasn't lying on the wet spot. He lifted his arm for John to give him his drink.

John moved over to the bed, grinning. "It was very sexy," he said.

"Yeah," Sherlock said. "I was a bit insulted by the amount of money you gave me -- I'm sure there are other men in this hotel willing to shell out more," he added laughing.

"Oh? Well go find one of them then," John said.

"Please tell me that's not your next fantasy," Sherlock said, smiling cheekily. "I'm willing to try new things but only if we're the only parties involved." He took a long sip of coffee.

John laughed. "No one is joining us." He climbed back into bed. "Oh, and Tom? Thanks for that -- I kept forgetting what I was supposed to call you."

"I just thought it'd be easier to pretend," Sherlock said. He reached over and fiddled with John's hair. "I missed hearing you call my name though. . ."

John smiled. "I'm sure I will be again soon enough," he said. "Did you like this game, too?"

"I did indeed," Sherlock said. He looked around the room. "This room is proper nice," he said. "Is the bathroom fancy as well?"

John nodded, smiling wider. "The shower has jets in the wall -- we can try them in the morning," he said.

Sherlock smiled. "You are a pervert," he said. "I charge more for the kinky stuff," he added.

John laughed. "You won't be so reluctant when you try those jets," he said. He scooted closer and tugged the covers up, sighing happily. "Let's sleep now, okay?" John kissed his mouth softly before closing his eyes and yawning. "I love you, Sherlock. Thanks for trying something new."

Sherlock set down his drink and snuggled close. "I'd do anything for you, John," he said quietly before kissing the top of his sleepy head. He closed his eyes as well, and they fell asleep in the incredibly comfortable bed.


End file.
